Take Your Time
by writeallnight
Summary: At this point Deeks is convinced she's never going to wake up. How do you continue to live when it feels like your whole world has stalled?


A/N: I can't stop the angst people. It's just too much. This one takes place sometime in between "The Queen's Gambit" and "Ghost Gun." Sorry, I'm not sorry for the feelings.

Also...this is my 50th NCIS LA fic. So that's crazy. Thanks to everyone who has read and encouraged me along the way!

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 _How many impassioned, bedside speeches did you have to make to your unconscious partner before she woke up?_ Deeks thought to himself. Because he'd made at least six or seven, fully expecting that _this time_ would be the one that did it. And yet, nothing. Not a hint of her beautiful eyes, no movement at all except for the occasional erratic spasms that affected her hands and effectively stopped his heart every time they happened.

He'd tried pleading. He'd tried commanding. He'd changed the order of the words in his speech, which was damn near perfect at this point since he'd done it every day for the last three weeks. He'd bribed her with snacks, threatened to clean out her closet. He'd talked until his voice was hoarse and he sank back into the chair in defeat, staring at her through exhausted eyes. She was like freaking Sleeping Beauty and no magic kiss could get her to wake. He'd tried that too. A lot. And still nothing. All those Disney movies were one big, fat lie. He'd figured that out on day one.

He told himself it was probably better for her this way. There was no telling how much pain she would be in when she woke up. It was kinder that she slept through the worst of it as her body healed. But, selfishly, he wanted her back. And the longer he sat, the further away their life felt. He missed her. Badly.

He missed taking walks with her and Monty. He missed waking up to her kisses in the morning. He missed take out dinners and early morning surfs, and watching her cry as Jack let go of that stupid door to save Rose.

There were moments, in between counting how many old men with gaping hospital gowns went by the window (he was up to thirty-two), when he couldn't believe this was happening. The whole thing was completely surreal. They'd had a plan. They'd bought a house. He had a ring.

Yet here they were, completely stalled out with no answers. Deeks thought if the doctor told him one more time to, "wait and see," he would explode.

But the only other choice was to go home and wait there. He'd tried that too. It was worse. He hadn't slept in their bed in weeks, couldn't face it without her. On the rare nights he did end up at home instead of the chair beside her bed, the couch had become his preferred spot for sleeping. If he slept at all.

And on top of all that he was BORED. He needed Kensi to wake up before he died of boredom in this hospital room. And then he felt guilty for being bored. Until he got bored again. You could only carry on a one-sided conversation for so long before you completely lost your mind. He was getting close.

All of these thoughts paraded their way through Deeks' mind on repeat as he sat in that room. This chair was going to have a permanent impression of his butt in it. He hoped the next person who sat in it didn't mind. Although at this point they should probably just stitch his name on it. They were never, ever, leaving this hospital.

"Hi Deeks."

His mental self-pitying was interrupted by a woman, peeking her head in the doorway. "Hey, Jessica. How's Michael?"

He'd met her his second day coming to the hospital. Her husband was in the room next door. He'd been in a car accident three weeks prior, which had resulted in a traumatic brain injury. He was still heavily sedated and the damage had been extensive. Deeks could see from the look on her face that things weren't going well.

"He's um…he's still here. They had to put him back on the ventilator last night," she shrugged. "It's not a good sign."

"I'm so sorry," Deeks said softly. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, thank you," she tried to smile. "How's Kensi?"

He glanced back at his partner. "She's hanging in there. Still no change."

Jessica's face showed compassion even in the midst of her own suffering. "She just needs a little more time."

"Yeah," Deeks responded. "She does."

"Do you want to go get a cup of coffee?" Jessica asked. "It's terrible, but at least it'll get you out of the room for a little bit."

Deeks hesitated, his eyes finding Kensi's face again. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Coffee sounds good." Kensi wasn't going anywhere anyway.

He followed her to the cafeteria, accepted the cup she pressed into his hands and sank down into yet another chair, this one attached to a table that wobbled when you touched it. At least down here the smell of antiseptic wasn't so potent, although he wasn't sure the odor of cafeteria food was any better.

"How long have you and Kensi been together?" Jessica asked as she wrapped her hands around her own cup.

"Almost two years now. I mean, we've known each other longer. But officially, two years in December. How about you and Michael?"

"We got married in 2003. We'd only been dating about a year. But I just knew, you know?" she sent him a sad smile.

"Yeah, I think I probably fell in love with Kensi about three minutes after I met her. It just took us a while to figure it all out. Things were…complicated."

"You said you two worked together, right?"

"Every day." He looked down at his cup. "It makes me wish…I hadn't wasted so much time, you know?"

"You can't think like that." She looked directly into his eyes. "Living in regret…it doesn't change anything. Just makes you bitter. Be grateful, and hold onto only the good things."

She was right. But it felt more difficult than she made it sound. How could you not regret waiting to propose to the woman you loved, when it might be too late? "Do you ever get frustrated or," he hesitated, feeling guilty even asking, "bored just…waiting around?"

She laughed. "Yep. All the time. Did you know it takes exactly sixty-seven steps to get from Michael's room to the vending machine? Or that, that blonde nurse with the green scrubs sneaks into the next room over every day at 3:00 to call her boyfriend?"

He found himself smiling. "I guess you've found ways to keep yourself entertained, huh?"

"Entertained is a strong word. Sane is probably more appropriate," she replied. "But anytime I find myself getting frustrated I remind myself that Michael's still here. We've still got a chance. We've still got time. And I'm really grateful for that."

They walked back upstairs together and had just made it to the floor when an alarm went off at the nurse's station. Deeks felt his heart stop as doctors and nurses ran toward Kensi's room.

No. Not Kensi's room.

"Michael," Jessica whispered.

Someone dragged in a crash cart and CPR paused momentarily as they shocked his heart. Deeks winced as the man's body spasmed and then went still. The doctor resumed CPR and Deeks found himself holding his own breath as they continued to try and revive his new friend's husband.

Slowly, they began to stop. And finally, the doctor let his hands fall to his side, face defeated.

"No." Deeks felt Jessica sag against him and reached to support her.

The doctor stepped out of the room. Came toward them. "Jessica, I'm so sorry. There was nothing more we could do."

She shook her head. Couldn't speak.

Deeks felt physically sick as the weight of her grief filled the air around them.

"Can I…can I please have some time, with him?" she asked, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"Of course. Why don't you come with me?"

The doctor took her arm and Deeks watched her walk away. She didn't look back. He didn't know what he would have said if she did.

It had happened so fast. Was that how death always was? He suddenly couldn't remember. Here and then gone like they'd never existed. It was cruel. Unfair. She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. There should have been some warning, some sort of sign that their time was running out. She never would have gone downstairs with him if she'd thought Michael would be dead when they got back. She would have held onto every last second with him.

He drifted back to Kensi's room, sank into the same chair. Looked at her face. She was still here. Somehow, some way, she was still with him despite all the odds. And suddenly he didn't care if he had to sit in this chair forever.

He reached for her hand and gave the only speech that mattered. The one he should have given from the start. "Take your time, Kens. I'll be here."

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A/N: Leave your love in the reviews!


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